Kayaks glide to popularity in Keys

Kayaking the Keys

AP /Richard Patterson

Gina Whelchel of Sugarloaf Key snokels during a kayaking tour Aug. 8, 2003 within the mangroves of Big Pine Key. Kayaking is growing in popularity among tourists looking to get away from it all in the Florida Keys, said Harold Wheeler, marketing director for the Monroe County Tourist Development Council.

Gina Whelchel of Sugarloaf Key snokels during a kayaking tour Aug. 8, 2003 within the mangroves of Big Pine Key. Kayaking is growing in popularity among tourists looking to get away from it all in the Florida Keys, said Harold Wheeler, marketing director for the Monroe County Tourist Development Council. (AP /Richard Patterson)

Coralie CarlsonThe Associated Press

A caravan of kayaks snakes through a narrow opening in a mangrove forest in the backcountry waters of the lower Florida Keys.

"The slower you go, the more you see," said kayaking guide Bill Keogh, who offers daily guided tours.

Kayaking is growing in popularity among tourists looking to get away from it all in the Florida Keys, said Harold Wheeler, marketing director for the Monroe County Tourist Development Council. The tourism council doesn't keep statistics on kayaking, but rentals and paddling lessons are sprouting up all over the Keys.

"It's what we consider soft adventure travel," Wheeler said. "A lot of people are interested in that soft adventure now."

The draw of Big Pine Kayak Adventures is the 44-year-old Keogh, who has become an expert on the Keys' ecosystem during the past decade as a guide.

He explains which sea grasses are edible, points out the difference between a heron and an egret and tells how mangroves drop their green bean-like seeds during hurricane season for better dispersion. Keogh focuses on the details of the environment, not the distance covered in a kayak.

"Enjoy the trip, don't worry about the destination," he said. "We don't go fast and we don't go far."

The trip begins about 30 miles north of Key West on Big Pine Key. Nestled in the overlapping Key Deer National Wildlife Refuge and Great White Heron National Wildlife Refuge on the back roads of the island, a giant yellow kayak greets visitors in front of the marina at Old Wooden Bridge Fishing Camp.

Keogh sets each visitor inside a plastic kayak and leads the small group out to the open water, where thick seaweed sometimes pokes through the water and traps errant kayaks.

First he paddles under a large concrete bridge that leads to No Name Key -- the only inhabited island in the Florida Keys without electricity, he says. A black cable under the bridge delivers the necessities -- cable and telephone service. They use solar power and generators for electricity, he said.

That's about the only human development to be seen on the three-hour, milelong tour. Instead, Keogh reveals that the water that looked so calm is buzzing with activity.

"Did you see the fish jumping? Just to the left of the boat?" Keogh asks.

He points to a loggerhead turtle swimming into the shadow cast by the bridge.

A long, slender fish meanders by -- identified as a baby barracuda.

And the round, flower-shaped objects that look like coral in the shallow water are actually upside-down jellyfish, he says.

Keogh leads the group a few yards away to a sea grass flat -- a bed of sea grass that looks like a field ready for harvest -- where at least 50 herons and egrets are snacking on fish hidden between the blades of grass exposed at low tide.

Here the kayaks stop and the people grow quiet. The birds draw closer. One, stalking a fish, comes 10 feet away from a kayak. It darts its head down, then flips its head up and straightens its neck to swallow.

Keogh lets the group -- a grandmother and granddaughter from Oklahoma and the two relatives who are visiting in nearby Sugarloaf Key -- take a break with the fruit and drinks they brought along in a cooler. Some cool off in the water, others reapply sunscreen.

Then he leads the group into the narrow creek through the mangroves for the rest of the tour.

Deep inside the mangrove, shaded by the canopy of branches, one of the kayakers, Gina Whelchel, pulls out her snorkel and gets out of the boat to see the baby mangrove snappers up close.

The rest of the kayakers pause and listen to the droning of the cicada bugs, sticking their hands in the water to feel the seaweed and relaxing in the cool shadows of the mangrove forest that feels much farther than just a few miles off U.S. Highway 1.

"Being in the mangrove forest to me is one of the most special places to be," said Whelchel, who recently moved back to Sugarloaf Key. "You can barely hear the drone from the road."

Soon Keogh leads the group back out of the creek and through the mangrove tunnel.